“Congratulations on your wedding, Morris. In later years you
will look back on this moment as the happiest day of your
life.”
“But, Uncle Izzy, I’m not actually getting married until
tomorrow.”
“I know, Morris, I know.”
This classic gag reminds us that sometimes the next step forward
can land you on the down escalator, and that it can be better to
dream alone than to awaken in a hostile crowd. Mitt Romney’s
victory in the Iowa Straw Poll may or may not be hollow, depending
if the straw came from the barn or from the bar, but one thing is
for sure. He is now the official prime target for vitriol lobbed
laterally from his compeers, who are also his competitors.
It has long been my belief that running in primaries, although
theoretically less significant than being on the Election Day
ballot, is a much more psychically draining experience. First of
all, it features an imbalance between the stakes that depresses the
passion for victory; if you win you haven’t won yet, but if you
lose you have totally lost. It reminds me of my Army experience,
where they punished you for miscues but did not reward success. All
in all a very uncomfortable plateau on the incline of human
striving.
But the most gut-wrenching, heart-stopping, back-breaking,
mind-numbing, soul-searing aspect of the primary race is the fact
that all the attacks are being leveled from the flank. Granted it
is never fun to be excoriated, vilified, execrated, castigated,
scourged, mortified, imprecated, or even called an insensitive
heartless bigot in a jesting sort of way, but when it is done by
some creep or creepette from the other party it is endurable. After
all, you know in your heart those guys deserve to be excoriated,
vilified, execrated, castigated, scourged, mortified, imprecated
and joshingly dubbed insensitive heartless bigots, and you are just
the man for that job.
When it really bites is when it comes from your own team. When
some party comer accuses you of being a partygoer, it makes you
feel like Nicole would have felt if O.J. had done the thing his
book describes he would have done had he done the thing he didn’t
do. When the guy who worked with you on the correction to the
amendment to the supplemental to the budget chides you for missing
too many votes, you feel like the Swift Boat guys would have felt
if Kerry had exaggerated his exploits to get his medals and then
told Congress they were a bunch of rapists and war criminals.
Remember how betrayed Caesar felt when he was knifed at the Boston
Tea Party and he instinctively protested: “I too brew tea.” Or am I
mixing up my history again?
Seriously, if you examine the political landscape you will
discover that real feuds exist most often between members of the
same party, and they usually are rooted in resentments over remarks
bruited in the brotherly brouhahas we call primaries. This invited
infighting may work to pick out strong candidates to go up against
the other camp but the bloodletting involved is anything but
sanguine.
To take the most recent examples, many Reagan loyalists never
forgave George H. W. Bush for deriding their hero’s economic
program as “voodoo economics.” Although the Prez was cordial to the
Veep during their eight years in the White House, a lot of the
former’s aides treated the latter like he had AIDS. When Bush 41
began his campaign afterwards by promising to be kinder and
gentler, that was the last straw: Reaganites treated him unkindly
and ungently ever after.
On the other side, Clinton disliked Gore for barbs he had tossed
his way in earlier jockeying for party position. They kept a frosty
businesslike distance through their terms. Later, when Gore picked
Lieberman as a running-mate, that was the last straw, too.
Lieberman had berated Clinton on the Senate floor, and choosing him
was an implied rejection of Clinton. In the last days of the 2000
race, Clinton hardly campaigned for Gore. The official explanation
was that Gore had asked him to keep a low profile. I had an
impeccable source inside the campaign who told me the real
reason.
Bearing this in mind, Mr. Romney is in for a rough ride. He’ll
hear ‘em on the subject of his grandfather’s polygamy, as well as
on his choosing choice before living life changed his mind. Not to
mention anything else he has ever done, plus anything he ever
hasn’t done. Sorry, Mr. Mitt, welcome to the rest of your life.
